Time passed swiftly, and by early evening two days later, Braeburn's train was just a few minutes away from Ponyville. As the golden-furred stallion looked out of the window in his compartment, he could just make out the outline of the Sweet Apple Acres homestead amid the sea of brown, green, red, orange and yellow that constituted Ponyville's highly famed orchard.
"Not long now,” he thought eagerly. “Boy, will Ah be glad ta see Pinkie again!”
Braeburn wasn't normally the sort of pony to travel heavy, so it only took a few seconds for him to gather up his belongings. By the time he had finished, the vast countryside had given way to a sprawl of buildings and sidings as his train slowed down for its final approach. Finally, with a gentle squeak from its brakes, the train came to a halt alongside the platform, and Braeburn promptly trotted out of his carriage to find Applejack and Caramel awaiting him.
“Hey there, cuz!” he called cheerfully.
“Howdy, Braeburn,” replied Applejack, trying her hardest not to sound nervous. “How was yo' journey?”
“Not bad, thanks, A.J.,” replied Braeburn, failing to notice the anxiety in her voice, “but mo' on that later – 'cause Ah understood that Pinkie was gonna throw me a li'l welcome party, right?”
Applejack looked away, trying to think of an excuse. “Uh......well, about that...Ah'd been meanin' ta tell her,” she stuttered, “but she...well...”
“She's hosting a cute-ceañera in another town,” interrupted Caramel, quickly coming to his marefriend's rescue. “You know how it is with party ponies, being called out to all these swell gigs at short notice.”
“Yeah, Ah suppose so,” agreed Braeburn thoughtfully. “Oh well, Ah suppose Ah'll just have ta go an' see her some other time. Any idea when she's comin' back?”
“Um...she didn't say?” Deep down, Applejack was hoping that it wouldn't be very long.
“Ah, she'll come back when she comes back,” mused Caramel in a casual tone. “Anyway, Braeburn, shall we head back to the orchard? If I remember correctly, I believe Granny Smith's got your favourite hay fries recipe on the menu for the five of us tonight.”
“Five?” Braeburn was taken aback. “Shouldn't there be six of us?”
“Not tonight – Apple Bloom's having a sleepover with Sweetie-Belle and Twist over the weekend, so it's just us three with Granny Smith and Big Macintosh,” Caramel clarified.
“Oh...fair enough!” chuckled Braeburn. “Yeah, let's get going then.”
Neither Applejack nor Caramel needed any second bidding on that score. Even though night was slowly setting in, the two Earth ponies were understandably anxious to get back home before Braeburn found out about their blunder. Swiftly, they made their way through the now silent streets of Ponyville with Braeburn close behind, taking care not to come too close to Sugarcube Corner for fear of curiosity getting the better of him...
Over in the San Palomino desert, in a different time zone to that of faraway Ponyville, the late afternoon sun still hung just above the western horizon as the Appleloosan came close to its namesake town. Through their compartment window near the back of the train, Pinkie Pie gazed out across the arid landscape, barely able to contain her excitement for much longer. Soarin and Rainbow Dash had already finished packing their belongings and were now discussing their plan of action for when they arrived.
“I think as soon as we're off the train, me and Pinkie ought to go look for Braeburn,” decided Rainbow Dash. “You and Scoot can go book into the guest house and then do what you want for the rest of today.”
“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” conceded Soarin. “You okay with that, tiger?”
“Uh...yeah, I guess so,” replied Scootaloo doubtfully. She then turned her attention to her pregnant adoptive mother; “You sure you don't wanna come with us, Dash?”
“Thanks, Scoot, but Pinkie's gonna need that extra eye in the sky if she's gonna find Braeburn.”
“And on the back of my head and everywhere else I can fit one!” chimed in Pinkie Pie in a slightly agitated tone. “I've been away from that stallion for far too long, and if I don't find him by tonight, I'm gonna go crazy!!”
Soarin placed a thoughtful hoof to his chin. “You might have a point there, Pinkie,” he mused, and Scootaloo nodded in agreement.
“Don't worry, Pinkie,” soothed Rainbow Dash. “I'm sure we'll find him – it's not as if he's decided to leave Appleloosa all of a sudden.”
Pinkie Pie shuddered inwardly at the thought, but tried not to show her fear. “I hope not,” she muttered anxiously.
As the express began to slow down for Appleloosa Station, the four ponies headed over to the carriage door, ready to disembark. At last, the train came to a complete stop next to the platform, to the sound of the stationmaster crowing out the name of the station.
“Right,” said Rainbow Dash, leading the group off the coach and onto the platform, “I guess we'll see you this evening, Soar.”
“So long, Dashie,” replied Soarin, sharing a quick kiss with his wife before heading off with Scootaloo to explore the town.
The rainbow-maned mare then turned to Pinkie Pie; “C'mon, Pinks, we've got an Apple to seek. Let's split up and try to find him.”
“Okey-dokey-lokey!” and Pinkie Pie bounded away in a completely random direction, while Rainbow Dash took off for where she thought would be the most obvious place to find Braeburn – specifically, the orchard.
Rainbow Dash had only very rarely visited Appleloosa herself in the past, but the orchard's countless apple trees stood out very noticeably against the sandy, arid backdrop, so it didn't take her long to locate it. But as she began searching among the many groves, it quickly dawned on her that their search for Braeburn wasn't going to be anywhere near as easy as she had first thought – plenty of other ponies and even a few buffalo were busy harvesting apples, but none of them seemed to match the golden-furred stallion's description. Even when she checked from the air, she couldn't seem to find him.
“That's funny,” she remarked, touching down on a ledge overlooking the orchard. “Shouldn't he be out working the orchard himself?”
“He's not here.”
Rainbow Dash nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the voice that had just spoken to her. “What in the hay was that for, Pinkie?!” she exclaimed indignantly, clutching her chest to try and slow her racing heart.
“Well, duh!” retorted Pinkie Pie. “Just looking for Braeburn is all.”
“Well you don't need to startle me like that,” huffed Rainbow Dash. She paused for a few seconds before adding, “So you haven't seen him.”
“Nope.”
“Okay, then let's try this again – I'll go uptown, and you go check the station, just in case,” and before Pinkie Pie could reply, Rainbow Dash leaped into the air and headed back towards the town.
The two mares spent the best part of a few hours looking for Braeburn. Each time, Rainbow Dash would leave Pinkie Pie to search a certain area while she went to check another; but no matter where they looked, they couldn't seem to find him anywhere. To make matters worse, wherever Rainbow Dash looked, Pinkie Pie always seemed to jump out at her, saying “Nothing,” “No sign of him here,” or “Can't find him” among other variations.
At last, Rainbow Dash lost her temper. “WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT, PINKIE?!?!” she burst out angrily, wincing as she felt her unborn foal kicking hysterically. “THIS IS GETTING BEYOND A JOKE!!!”
“I can't help it, Dashie!” whined Pinkie Pie pathetically. “I haven't seen Braeburn all day – and I want to see him! I can't stand being away from him any longer, 'cause I like him – LIKE HIM, I TELL YOU!!”
“Yes, yes, I get it!!” growled Rainbow Dash, frustrated. “Look, I know you're anxious to see him, but you jumping out at me when I least expect it is not gonna help! If anything, it's gonna send me into early labour if you keep it up!”
“But what else am I supposed to do?! We've looked everywhere, and still no sign of him!”
Rainbow Dash paused, gently rubbing her belly to try and soothe her foal. “Then I guess we're just gonna have to ask around – and don't you jump out at me again, you hear?”
“Is there anything I can help you with, miss?” The two mares looked back to see a young buffalo bullock standing just behind them with a curious look on his face.
“Uh...yeah, actually, there is,” Rainbow Dash spoke up at last. “My friend here is looking for a stallion from this area named Braeburn. You familiar with him?”
“Yeah, I know him,” affirmed the bullock. “One of those who held all those peace talks with my tribe after he and his fellow townsponies planted all those apple trees on our stampeding trail. Quite a fun guy he is too – matter of fact, the only two I can name who've ever matched his enthusiasm are a guy named Cheese Sandwich and a mare named Pinkie Pie.”
“You called?”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes at Pinkie Pie's randomness and returned her attention to the bullock; “Yeah, we...kinda guessed that,” she replied, “but what we want to know is where is he?”
The bullock opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it again as his face fell. “Ah yes...about that...” he stammered, almost afraid of what he was about to say.
“Yeah, what?”
“I'm...sorry to have to disappoint you both,” explained the bullock apologetically, “but I'm afraid Braeburn's...” but he broke off when he saw the look of anxiety on Pinkie Pie's face. Somehow, he seemed to have difficulty with his own.
“Out with it, mister!” urged Rainbow Dash impatiently. “We haven't got all evening, you know!”
The bullock gulped and looked away. “He's not here,” he mumbled meekly.
“Yeah, we kinda got the impression from the lack of......hang on!” Rainbow Dash promptly interrupted herself. “You're saying Braeburn has moved out of Appleloosa?!”
“I'm afraid so, miss.”
Pinkie Pie let out a huge gasp, a look of horror spreading across her face like a plague of rats across a small village. Strangely enough, in her own disappointment, Rainbow Dash didn't seem to notice. “Well...thanks anyway,” she said to the bullock, giving him a small, understanding nod.
“I'm only sorry I couldn't be of any real help,” answered the bullock, sheepishly turning to leave.
“Nah, it's okay, mister,” sighed Rainbow Dash half-heartedly. “If he's gone, he's gone. C'mon, Pinks, let's get back to the guest house.”
But Pinkie Pie didn't move. She didn't even give the faintest squeak in reply. She just sat there with the same thunderstruck look that she had taken on when she had heard what the bullock had had to say.
Confused, Rainbow Dash nudged her friend's shoulder. “Pinkie?” she asked. “Pinkie, did you get that?”
Still no response.
“Equestria calling Pinkie Pie!” called Rainbow Dash, nudging her even harder. “Pinkie, do you...” but she was cut off by what sounded like a sudden rush of air. The gravid Pegasus mare jumped back in shock, unable to comprehend what was going on at that moment – but when she had gathered her awareness, she wished she hadn't.
Pinkie Pie's mane and tail were as flat as a beach ball that had just been deflated, their bounciness completely gone, and her vibrant colours had dulled considerably. Her eyes bore an expression of pure despair as her jaw quivered, struggling hard to form a few words but failing badly. After nearly half a minute of sitting there like she had been attacked by a cockatrice, she finally managed to stammer, “...h-h-he's gone?”
There was a very awkward pause.
“Um...yeah, so it seems,” replied Rainbow Dash unhappily, mentally bracing herself for the inevitable. And she was quite right to do so – barely five seconds after she had uttered those solemn words, Pinkie Pie almost literally collapsed into tears, bawling her heart and soul out into the San Palomino desert sand while her heavily pregnant best friend sat and watched in dismay...
Soarin and Scootaloo had enjoyed their day together, when they returned later that evening, the two of them were quite agreed that Appleloosa was one of the most delightful holiday destinations they had ever been to. In fact, such was their joy that the last thing they expected to find was Rainbow Dash sitting glumly in the front room with her head in her hooves.
Instantly forgetting to be all cheerful and carefree, Soarin walked over to the rainbow-maned mare, a look of concern on his face. “What's the matter, Dashie?” he asked anxiously.
“You know we said we'd bring Pinkie here to see Braeburn?” asked Rainbow Dash.
“Yeah?”
“Not happening.”
“Why not?” quizzed Soarin, taken aback.
Rainbow Dash told them all about their fruitless search for Braeburn, and how Pinkie Pie had reacted to the news that he had left Appleloosa altogether. By the time she had finished, neither Scootaloo nor Soarin could help but share her dismay for the heartbroken pink-furred mare.
“Oh, Dashie, that's terrible,” gasped Soarin. “I can't even begin to imagine how Pinkie must feel about the whole thing.”
“I know what you mean, Soar,” sighed Rainbow Dash sadly. “Soon as we got here, the first thing she did was charge on up to her room and start crying her eyes out, poor thing. I've been trying my best to cheer that mare up, but she just doesn't seem to wanna know.”
Soarin heaved a sigh of his own and sat down next to her. “What a thing to come back to,” he mused unhappily.
“You said it, Soarin,” agreed Scootaloo, gloomily looking at her front hooves. There was a long silence as the three of them sat and brooded over all that had happened that day, and how a simple act of generosity on their part had only led to grief and despair for their pink-furred party pony friend. Somehow, the prospect of a vacation in Appleloosa didn't seem quite so inviting after all.
At last, Rainbow Dash spoke up; “I'm gonna try again, Soarin. We can't just leave Pinkie to drown herself in her own emotions – you never know what she might do to herself.”
“Point taken, Dashie,” conceded Soarin. “I just hope she's not too far gone by now.”
Rainbow Dash merely nodded in reply before making her way into the kitchen.
“Uh...Dash? I thought all the bedrooms were up there,” called Scootaloo, pointing up the stairs in confusion.
“I know, squirt; I'm just getting something which might perk her up a bit,” came the reply. Soarin and Scootaloo exchanged glances, unsure of what Rainbow Dash was talking about; but as soon as she came out again, they immediately understood...